If At First You Don't Succeed
by Le Penguin
Summary: In which Ansem the Wise proves to be otherwise. AnsemXehanort. PreKH.


DAY 603 OF RESEARCH PROJECT, TIME 0002001400

"...I...I love you. As a mentor, teacher, ruler, and so much more. I would think nothing of sacrificing my very being for your research, if it were to mean that you would even give me the faintest of smiles as my reward, because I--"

Ansem spun to face Xehanort in his chair thoughtfully and lazily, studying his popsicle. "You know, Xehanort, I wonder how they are able to so precisely mix the ingredients to make these popsicles so delightfully blue. Turquoise. Ultramarine, even!"

He blinked as if coming out of a deep trance, then squinted at Xehanort. "Now, what's this I hear about you wanting to become a test subject?"

Xehanort blinked, his gaze snapping up from his wringing hands, stunned into a silence of sheer disbelief. "I...what? Yes, of course, if it would further your research; but didn't you hear what I said before that about lo--"

Ansem gave his popsicle a thoughtful lick. "Well, well, willingly submitting to be an experimental subject is not a decision to be taken lightly. But you are not one to make rash decisions, are you?" He chuckled, wisely. "Sometimes I surprise myself about how well I know you."

Xehanort seemed too shocked to speak. Ansem rose from his chair and glided over regally, giving the other man's shoulder a fatherly pat.

"Well, come along, we mustn't dally. Best to get the day's work done in time for the two-for-one special at the ice cream stand, eh?"

Xehanort trailed after Ansem down the hall, looking shell-shocked and ready to cry. "...b-but...sir..."

"Ah-ah-ah, delightfully turquoisian treats must be saved for after the chores are done! Ah, you're still such a boy in some ways..."

DAY 612 OF RESEARCH PROJECT, TIME 0000038401

"Sir."

Ansem squinted at one of the heart pods, tapping it lightly with his pencil. "...great response to the unknown stimuli discovered in the keyhole...ah, yes, Xehanort? Have you done your self-physical already?"

"I'm not wearing anything under my labcoat."

Ansem shook his head distractedly, tsking as he scribbled down notes. "Now, now, you know how cold it gets in the machinery rooms. Young people these days, too concerned with fashion to know when a good old woolen sweater is needed...demonstrates many signs of remedial life...jerky motions..."

Xehanort looked distinctly pained, but blazed on bravely. He reached out to grasp his superior's arm lightly. "...I thought...maybe _you_ could keep me warm...?"

Ansem chuckled. "Oh, now, Xehanort; if I gave you a popsicle it would only make you chillier. You're welcome to borrow one of my extra scarves, however."

"But--!"

"No, no, it's no trouble at all! You need to keep your strength up if you want to be able to remain as a test subject. ...further stimuli needed to fully judge effects..."

Xehanort clutched at the collar of his labcoat, taking even breaths. His footsteps marched out of the laboratory dejectedly.

DAY 623 OF RESEARCH PROJECT, TIME 0807039600

"Why, Xehanort, you're certainly in early today--"

"Do you like my new shirt, sir? I made it _especially_ with _you in mind_." Xehanort ripped open his labcoat to reveal a t-shirt emblazoned with the words "MAKE ME YOURS" in large, red lettering.

Ansem studied the shirt fondly. "Why, it's quite lovely; I didn't know you were interested in clothing design--"

Xehanort lunged on top of Ansem's desk, sending notebooks and pens and popsicle sticks flying. "I'm actually more interested in you ripping this shirt off of me and _having your filthy way with me on this desk--_"

"Xehanort, goodness, you leapt clear across the room!" Ansem exclaimed in disbelief. "Your body seems to be reacting quite readily to the dark stimuli--ah, but I must write this down! Now, where did my notebook go..."

Xehanort slunk off the desk miserably, trudging his way into the laboratory with the clear intention of suicide or a long series of stiff drinks.

DAY 630 OF RESEARCH PROJECT, TIME 0082353000

Xehanort rose to answer the knock at his door, and seemed to be rather surprised at the sight of Ansem standing before him, wringing his hands and wearing a grim look.

"Sir? To what do I owe this visit?"

Ansem gazed Xehanort from eyes to toes, sighed tragically, and entered the room without a word. Hope blossomed great and terrible over Xehanort's features, and he hurried to lock the door behind him securely.

After a long moment, Ansem croaked out, "...Xehanort."

Xehanort pocketed a tube of lube stealthily fetched out of his dresser drawer and was at Ansem's side in a moment. "Sir? I-is there something you need?"

Ansem looked distinctly pained. "...indeed there is, Xehanort."

Xehanort looked ready to burst into tears of joy. "R-really! What is it, sir? Entertainment? Relaxation? Perhaps a mixture of the two such as that which is given by hot, filthy se--"

"It is a shame for me to ask such a thing of you," Ansem interrupted, looking distant and tragic. "But, I have no where else to turn. You, my closest and dearest apprentice, are the only one that will perhaps understand my motives--"

Xehanort flung himself onto his bed and gazed up at Ansem hopefully. Ansem went on, oblivious.

"--and perhaps give me relief from my dark urges. We study the heart, but know not of its true desires--"

"Dark urges?" Xehanort prompted, nearly vibrating with the repressed urge to fling himself at Ansem. "Please elaborate, sir."

Ansem paused for a moment, gulped, and gazed at Xehanort with pathetic hope.

"...will you...wear the ears for me?"

Xehanort stared down at the oversized mouse ears Ansem shoved into his lap, and promptly burst into tears.

"WILL THAT MAKE YOU LOVE ME!" he wailed, curling into a pathetic ball.

Ansem sighed in blessed relief and stroked Xehanort's hair fondly, resting the mouse ears comfortably atop his head.

"I knew you'd understand. Sing the song for me, too?"

Xehanort took a gasping, rattling breath, and blinked open eyes that were tinged with a yellow gleam. He sobbed out,

"...who's the leader of the club that's made for you and me..."

PRESENT DAY, PRESENT TIME

"Wow, Xemnas was weird even before he gave into the darkness." Sora shook his head sagely. "Just goes to show ya. I think."

Riku was overcome with a sense of deep, abiding pity for Xehanort, and a deep abiding urge to drink himself into a stupor at Sora's remark. Leon merely arched an eyebrow.

"Was _that_ supposed to be the reason you dragged us all down here, Yuffie?"

Yuffie emerged from under the computer panel with a cleverly concealed video disc, grinning widely. "What, you kidding? I just shoved some random security recording in there to get it warmed up. _This_ baby I got from my secret field operatives just the other day!"

Yuffie shoved in the disc and mashed play. Rikku's wide green eyes filled the screen, and she let out a barely contained giggle.

"Velcome to ze Radiant Garden Animal Kingdom. Ve vatch as ze fierce tigers stalk zeir prey--"

"NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN WE MIIIIIIIIIISSSSEEEED YOOOOOOOOU--"

"AUUUUUUGHHH!" Cloud was taken down to the pavement by a trio of squealing, leather-clad fairies and dragged kicking and clawing off-screen.

Yuffie wiped away a tear. "I've taught them so well," she whispered, mistily.

LATER THAT DAY

"...Riku?"

"Yeah?"

"Um. You were possessed by Ansem, who wasn't really Ansem but Xemnas, who wasn't really Xemnas but Xehanort, who wasn't really Xehanort but his Heartless?"

"...yes..."

"And Ansem-who-is-really-Ansem, on the video, he..."

"..."

"...um. Is that why you like it when I wear the ears--"

"We are not discussing this topic."

"But--"

"NOT. DISCUSSING."


End file.
